Variety Pack
by Hannaadi88
Summary: In accordance with the 30 days nsfw challenge, presenting a selected variety of kinks and prompts for your entertainment since '09. USUK and UKUS- proceed with caution. Current kink: Handjob
1. Cuddling and Comfort

The darkness was complete. It took over everything, the dark, enveloping the walls and bars with its' cold embrace. The dark left a trace of dampness as well, or perhaps it was the combination of human perspiration in an underground cell. That could be it, too.

The darkness was only an expression of the lack of light. That was the only thing missing- light. Even if he couldn't see them, Alfred could still _hear _the other men around him even if they were silent. There was nothing much to be said, after all. Their slow breathing, the shift in the air as they moved was an indication to him that he was not alone. And that was the most important thing.

The damp skin against his arm represented reassurance that his lover had not been among the fallen. The weight of a head on his shoulder told Alfred that even with enemies holding them against their will in some bunker, there was someone who cared for him and showed him kindness in the midst of repression. The brightness that flashed from the other's eyes whenever their gazes met symbolized hope.

"Arthur?" he whispered under his breath, voice cracked from lack of use. Their jailers didn't encourage conversation among themselves. As if someone could plot an escape- even Alfred couldn't imagine how they'd make it out from the cell without a soldier marching them along. How long have they been there? Days? Hours? It was hard to tell.

It had been enough to catch the other's attention, however, who shifted a bit and repositioned his head on Alfred's shoulder. He didn't say a word, but he didn't need to by then. All Alfred had needed was to know that he was listening.

Arthur hadn't been the only one to hear if he was to judge according to the shifting he heard around him. Men, _his _men, surrounded the two of them, each perched against a wall or a comrade's back, listening for the sound of footsteps that would signal change- a meal, perhaps, or maybe a message. Even a threat would be accepted without question. In a place where time had no meaning, where everything was on hold, any alteration came as a blessing.

That didn't mean that Alfred could afford for the others to hear what he had to say, though. They _were _going to get out sometime, and once in daylight he would have to face the consequence of being overheard. As lieutenant, he had to set example for his soldiers, and even if he were to be the one to knock down a wall and free them all, he would be dismissed if word let out that he was sleeping with one of his men.

Which was why, in the end, all he did was wrap an arm around Arthur and hold him closer, leaning his own head against the other's. No one could see that, at least. If he couldn't convey comfort through words, his touch would have to suffice. Arthur understood (he always understood him. Agreeing with was another thing entirely) and shifted closer, splaying the fingers that rested on Alfred's leg.

There was guilt. Of course there was guilt- it was his fault that whoever had followed him ended up here. The rest were probably rotting in no man's land. Alfred had been the leader, he had been the one who led the soldiers. They trusted him to lead them to victory. Their families trusted him to bring their sons, brothers and husbands home.

And he had failed.

He wouldn't, _couldn__'__t _break down, not in front of everyone. They wouldn't be able to see the tears on his face, but he was never good at swallowing the sobs. His throat would burn and contract whenever he tried, and after a few tries he would give up. Arthur had been the one to tell him that he didn't have to even try to hold back in the first place. It hurt much less after that.

Alfred owed his men to stay strong. After the initial shock and desperation, he would work on a plan to escape, perhaps negotiate with their jailers whenever they showed up. But for now all he could spare was for Arthur, the only one he wanted to comfort was him. Putting a face and emotion to the person you failed was the hardest.

"It's alright," he heard a raspy voice whisper against his ear. Alfred frowned, opening his mouth to object, to point out that they were not alone and most importantly of all, were captured and definitely _not _alright, but the voice cut him off before he could say any of it. "It's not your fault."

As if to back up his words, the hand on his leg stirred to life, rubbing the thumb soothingly against the rough cloth of Alfred's uniform, followed by the whole palm brushing up and down his thigh silently. They found a spot where the cloth had been torn, exposing bruised skin and pausing for a moment before gliding over it, applying a cool touch to the inflamed wound.

The hand pulled away the moment he breathed in sharply, but when Alfred took a gentle hold of the hand instead of pulling it away, Arthur relaxed. He couldn't argue his case, prove the other that he was wrong- that he _was_ the one to blame- but he could show that he appreciated it with every stroke of his thumb against the back of Arthur's hand, safe in his own palm.

He turned his head slightly and leaned down, at that moment disregarding the men around him even if they did possess the ability to see them and pressed his lips mutely against Arthur's cheek, feeling the skin tighten and knowing, even without seeing, that Arthur was smiling.

_We__'__ll __get __out __of __here__, __babe__, __I __promise__._

* * *

_Hanna Chan's Blah-Blah Corner;_

_Oh look, I'm writing again X'D My friend found this 30 day kink challenge and offered to divide the kinks between us, so here I am, posting my first prompt. Oh I know, this isn't really sexual, but I thought I'd start out clean and ease into the smut owo' Updates should be often since I have a deadline. Each chapter is a oneshot unrelated to the other chapters unless stated as such. I'll be naming the chapters according to their prompts, so if you come across a kink you don't like, then feel free to skip it *grin*_

_In any case, reviews are appreciated! They help me improve my writing :) _

_-Hanna_


	2. Mutual Masturbation

This was it. Now or never. He had been planning this night for ages.

After a week of careful scheming and plotting, Arthur was ready for the last and final touches. The plastic shopping bag had been dropped on the bed in his haste, every other move swift and calculated. He had only about an hour, he reminded himself as he folded the blanket neatly to reveal the white sheet beneath it. _Perfect camouflage_.

A wide smirk framed his lips as he sorted through the bag, fishing out the small tubes before stashing the rest in his bedside table, placing the selected pioneers on the bedding beside him. A box of tissues from the dorm bathroom added a final touch. Now, all he had to do was take the sign and- there. Done. Alfred had a way with designing their 'Do Not Enter' sign, Arthur noted as he hung it on the doorknob before closing the door. The skull did look quite intimidating if not for the American flag drawn behind it.

Now that the big oaf was out on a date with some tart he met on campus, Arthur could finally allow himself a satisfying, luxurious wank. There was no annoying presence to get in his way or barge in unexpectedly, no roommate to pester him for help with his coursework or drag him to some eatery against his will. No, this was his night and he was going to bask in privacy.

He settled himself on the exposed sheet, sighing softly as he looked down at the bed. The lubricants he had purchased were of a more fancy line than he usually treated himself to. Arthur would usually settle for an unscented clear substance, but these were supposed to be special with a flowery fragrance and a creamier texture. They had cost a bit more than he had been planning on spending, but the idea of him using them quickly overcame his inner scrooge and opted for a variety pack. He hoped they were going to be worth it.

A sound outside the door made Arthur freeze, eyes fixed on the thin wooden barrier between him and the world. The laughter faded soon enough, however, and he scowled, massaging his temples in frustration. He had waited so long for this, it would be a waste if he was to jump at every little rustle or movement beyond the door. It would be a tad ridiculous if he were to use earplugs, however, Arthur argued to himself. He needed to belt up...or just get on with it before he lost his nerve, then.

Out of habit, Arthur cast a quick glance at the empty bed on the other side of the narrow room only to chastise himself that there was no need for it. He _knew _that Alfred was out. He was very much alone.

_Then what are you waiting for?_

A somewhat trembling hand (for heaven's sake, he needed to get a grip, quite literally)hesitantly hovered over his crotch, steadying his breathing as he closed his eyes. It was all too easy to loose oneself and block out your surroundings once you had your eyes closed. Now that he was free to focus the majority of his attention to his fifth sense, Arthur recognized the bleeding of warmth into his trousers from his palm. It was likely the result of tension and anxiety, but it felt..._nice. _

His confidence slowly claiming ground, Arthur settled his hand squarely on his lap, enjoying the weight and warmth on his crotch. He could feel his back muscles relax against the wall as he spread his fingers, pressing his palm firmly against himself and exhaling. He could do this. He _needed _this. His palm started to move, maintaining the pressure it was applying against himself as Arthur dug the heel of his hand against his clothed crotch.

A few minutes of rubbing and pressing later found Arthur Kirkland with a flushed face and an interest- piqued cock. The desire to be touched directly was slowly getting the better of him, and the hand that grasped the zipper of his trousers and quickly pulled it down was full of intent that hadn't been there before. The button was undone as well before he grabbed the material at his hips and pulled them down, arching his back and lifting himself up just enough to shimmy out of his trousers and, immediately afterwards, his pants. Most nights he wouldn't bother, but if he was already at it, he might as well do it properly. Besides, he wanted to wear those later on.

Completely exposed to the cool evening air, Arthur shivered, suppressing the urge to cross his legs. Summer usually was accompanied with warm, if not humid, weather, but the nights tended to get cool down quite a bit. His torso was still warm, however, sporting a light blue t-shirt. The contrast between his upper and lower halves was somewhat uncomfortable but the situation would change very soon if his hand had any say in it.

Arthur glanced back down next to him, scanning the labels on the tubes before picking one up and doing away with the cap. Squeezing the tube resulted in a generous amount of a cold glob on his left palm that smelled slightly like rosemary. Not the most sensuous fragrance, Arthur supposed, but he liked the mystic associations with the scent. It suited him, and after all, he had only himself to please that night, so he might as well use something he enjoyed.

He dropped the tube back onto the bed and clapped his hands together, rubbing his palms a few times before feeling the warm friction. With his hands fully greased with a relatively warm goo, Arthur adjusted himself against the wall, finding the most comfortable position before leaning back and swallowing thickly. He was ready, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to enjoy this.

Two hands wrapped themselves languidly around his cock, stalling with a hitch of the breath before squeezing softly. He throbbed in response. Licking his lower lip thoughtfully, Arthur pulled his hands apart, dragging one to the base while the other migrated up north to the head, waiting a few moments before making them glide back to each other and meet halfway, quickly returning to their stations only to repeat the action a number of times.

The hand at the base finally relinquished its' place and shifted to cup the sacs beneath it, squeezing while the other continued to pump the hardening flesh. Arthur's breathing was turning shallow while his mind was focusing on pacing his hands. He wanted to keep his movements slow- this wasn't a hasty wank beneath the covers. He was going to draw this out for as long as he could.

With his hands working mechanically, Arthur leaned the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes once more, free to conjure fantasies and scenarios for his own personal pleasure. Fleeting images of faceless models flexing their muscles in a swimsuit advertisement in a magazine Arthur had read the day before passed through his mind, choosing not to stall over the sunkissed skin. He wanted something more tangible and realistic, not some body perfected by photoshop.

Before he could stop himself (as if he would have wanted to) Arthur was going over the faces of his classmates, listing names and conjuring figures he had admired during his lessons. Ludwig had really nice thighs, come to think of it, and weren't Antonio's arms to die for? The face of a certain Frenchman came up and lingered a few moments before Arthur waved the bloody thing away. He could have Francis any day- why waste his time fantasizing on what he'd already seen before?

No one seemed to fully grasp his interest, however, much to Arthur's disappointment. His hand was beginning to move faster if only to supply some stimulation, but without a proper image all of his preparations and planning would have been for naught. His mind was usually quite efficient... at the wrong times.

A pair of blue eyes appeared unbidden in his mind's eye. Something about them made Arthur's breath hitch, releasing the first real moan of the night. They looked right through him, seizing him up hungrily in their possessive stare. A pair of arms- strong, warm arms- accompanied those baby blues, holding Arthur close in their firm grasp. Just like he had seen them do with countless women before.

He would have groaned at his desperation. How cruel could he be to himself, fantasizing about his roommate? His inevitably handsome, strong and very much _straight _roommate? Arthur had sworn to himself the first day he met him that he wouldn't ever think of Alfred F. Jones as anything but a pest he had to live with. But there he was, wanking off to a serene smile and messy blond hair the moment he let his mind wander.

_Might as well. This is the closest I'll ever get to him, anyhow, _Arthur reminded himself, disregarding the bitter undertone and returning to the arms that were trailing down his back. Those large warm hands splayed over his ass, squeezing the supple flesh as the owner of those marvelous palms muttered dark, dirty words in his ear. Of course, it being Arthur's mind, he allowed himself artistic license to refine some of the more common phrases.

_If only you knew what I want to do to you, you dirty slut...those pretty legs of yours wouldn't be able to carry you an inch after I've fucked you into the mattress...you like this, don't you, whore?_

It shouldn't have been as arousing as it was to Arthur. There was a charm in giving up control and being treated like a common whore by such an able man, even if it was only in his dreams. The body that was pressing him against the wall, the mouth ravishing his own and marking his neck, the knee strategically pushed between his own legs...those all felt more real than some of his wildest experiences in the past. He _yearned _for them to be real.

His hand continued its' pumping vigorously, gliding over his slickened length in a quick pace. Presum was already dribbling down from the tip as it was, and only served to ease the task for Arthur's hand. A raspy moan escaped his lips, but Arthur was beyond caring. He was almost there, just a bit more-

_Click._

Everything froze. He had been loud, but not _that _loud to have drawn attention, surely. Arthur's eyes remained closed, refusing to acknowledge the intruder. Whoever they were, they'd most likely get the hint and retreat, leaving him alone to finish himself off quickly and demurely. There had gone his carefully planned night.

He waited, but there was no sound of hurried footsteps and a closing door. The silence hung heavily, playing on Arthur's nerves. He never should have done something like this- he never should have taken the risk. Now the whole dorm would hear about this and he'll be ridiculed for the rest of the term and _why weren't they leaving?_

Only someone without an iota of tact would have remained there and, a few moments later, sit down on the opposite bed if Arthur could judge by the loud creak. It was quite ridiculous to keep his eyes closed by then- whoever it was, they wanted to confront him and curling himself away into the corner was not an option. Carefully, he opened his eyes.

He should have known. Who else would have been as oblivious to the situation at hand?

But lord, he didn't deserve this. Not after the wild thoughts that had roamed freely through his mind. The last person on earth he wanted to encounter was the one he had been fantasizing about so vividly. Karma was a bitch, though, and sitting silently in front of him was Alfred F. Jones.

Neither of them spoke. The hand still holding Arthur's cock tightened its' grip out of reflex, eliciting a surprised and aroused gasp. Heat radiated from his face, and his cheeks must have been a bright, vivid red, Arthur was sure. He was an embarrassment. Alfred was surely analyzing him like one of his science projects and officially classifying him as a freak. Next thing he'd know, the other man would ask to switch rooms with someone and with Arthur's luck his new roommate would be French.

It was just a matter of time before Alfred would get up and leave him to dwell. The thing was, though, Alfred wouldn't move. He had a curious look on his face, now that Arthur dared study it properly. There was a ghost of a smile as well as a light blush. Oh. He hadn't taken into account that his roommate would make fun of him.

Arthur was about to open his mouth and snap at the oaf to leave the room and _had he never heard of privacy _when he spotted movement from the corner of his eye. A lazy, knowing smile stretched across Alfred's face as he raised his hand to the front of his jeans, wasting no time on unzipping himself and, to Arthur's shock, pulling out his cock.

"If you were having a masturbate-athon you should have told me, man," Alfred chuckled, giving his length a few quick pumps. "Jerking off alone sucks."

Arthur's throat went dry and simply nodded, not caring to compose a coherent response. Lord, how many nights could he have spent rubbing himself to completion while watching Alfred do the same? He was perfect. Even soft, his roommate was clearly well endowed. A spark of interest in his own cock reminded him of his now rather painfully drawn out erection. His hand sprung into action once more, following Alfred's lead and stroking himself with a trembling palm.

He wasn't sure where to look. This was the first time he was presented with the concept of wanking off in another person's company. Were you supposed to look at each other, or was it immodest? Was watching the other's face contorted in pleasure allowed? Was he supposed to cover himself up somehow?

Alfred did no such thing, however, and had taken to grinning at him between grunts. He was truly beautiful that way, Arthur noted while dragging his nails against his skin testily. He wanted this to last, more than ever. The other's breathing had slowly become heavier and his eyes had a bright, glossy sheen to them behind his glasses. Perfect.

Not to mention that cock. Oh dear lord in heaven, that prick was glorious. Now aroused and in all its' glory, Arthur couldn't help but stare. His mouth felt rather empty as he observed the sheen of sweat above the thick veins, admiring the sheer _girth _of this man. He must have been a bit _too _obvious, however, since when he raised his eyes he found Alfred smiling smugly at him.

"Big, huh? The chicks love it. You ain't too bad yourself, y'know," he gestured to him with his chin, sighing softly and leaning back against the wall. "The girls would totally dig you if not for your brows. You should really do something 'bout them, Artie."

Arthur's face flared, but not because of the last remark- it flew completely over his head- but from the notion that Alfred had been checking him out as well. He swallowed thickly, grumbling some sort of response he didn't care to clarify even to himself as his hand went quicker, stroking himself into oblivion.

When he came, it was with a small cry, releasing all over his hand. He arched his back, breathing raggedly as he continued pumping himself, milking his orgazsm for all it was worth. Something had to have appealed to Alfred since a few moments later he came as well, groaning quietly before slumping down onto the bed.

For a couple of minutes heavy breathing and the occasional grunt were the only sound in the room. It was Arthur who took the initiative to return to the land of the living, straightening his back and reaching for the tissue box on the bed. After wiping himself dry he threw the box to his roommate, busying himself with his clothing while the other cleaned himself in silence.

Generally avoiding Alfred's gaze, Arthur stood up from the bed and gathered his equipment, dumping the bottles of lube in his drawer and getting rid of the soiled tissues. He had the distinct feeling that someone was watching him and it made him overall uncomfortable.

When he gathered the nerve to look in the other's direction, Alfred was zipped up once more and was approaching him swiftly. It took him a moment to realize that his roommate was only disposing his mess in the trash bin next to him, but he had brushed up against Arthur as he did so and ruined the Brit's train of thought. Lovely. From when had he been so nervous?

"Er, I guess I should get going. Amber said she'd be meeting me later," Alfred broke the silence, rambling on about who Arthur assumed was his newest fling. The sound of her name, however, brought him back to the harsh reality he had been trying to escape before. Despite whatever had occurred between them during the past hour, Alfred was still very much enamored with those of the female sex and would never look at Arthur twice. The only time he'd be looking at his cock with interest would be to compare the two of them.

"...do it again."

Arthur's eyes snapped up to meet the other's, his attention back on his roommate's words. "What was that?" he asked cautiously, flinching at the biting tone in his voice. With him it wasn't as much of a problem of 'thinking before you speak' than using the right tone. Alfred, however, didn't seem fazed by his manner at all and simply smiled at him in that infuriatingly way of his and repeated his words. "I was just saying that we should do that again sometime."

And then he left.

* * *

_Hanna Chan's Blah-Blah Corner;_

_Well, there you have it, prompt number two =w= I hope you enjoyed it! Please leave a review if you have the time 8D  
_

_-Hanna  
_


	3. Handjob

"Let me go!"

Alfred narrowed his eyes. All he needed was for somebody to hear the yelling and walk in on them. "Listen Arthur, just because some tall and dark stranger smiles at you doesn't mean that you have to latch yourself onto him. Hell, he's probably in his twenties!"

To be honest, pinning his friend to a wall in a side room wasn't what Alfred had been planning when he had invited Arthur to a party that evening. The guy had said that his parents wouldn't be home and what with the way Arthur had been pouring himself over his studies, Alfred had decided that he deserved a break. However, he hadn't been aware of the disastrous combination of an intoxicated Arthur and a heady atmosphere at the time.

The death glares he was getting weren't doing anything to help him, either. "That's none of your business," Arthur hissed at him as he struggled, stepping on his foot. Once Alfred leaned forward and pressed his full weight against him, trapping Arthur completely against the wall, he seemed to give up on a physical attempt at escaping. Instead, he allowed his limbs to fall limp against the hard stone behind him and gave Alfred a withering glance.

"Don't give me that look. C'mon Art, were you really expecting me to stand by and watch you make a fool out of yourself? I saved you just before you could make a serious mistake!"

"Save me?" Arthur's brows shot up incredulously. "Save me from what? Having a good time? The only thing you did, Alfred, was embarrass me in front of everyone when you dragged me away like some child. I'm sure Adam never would have done that."

Alfred's hold on the wrists in his hands grew tighter. "So that's his name? Adam? Hah. He could be a serial killer for all you know. But no! The ten minutes you've been throwing yourself at him shamelessly qualify you as an expert on this _Adam. _I bet all he needed to do was to tell you that you have a nice ass and you would have woken up with your wallet empty-"

"He did actually."

"...wait, what?"

Arthur squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. "Tell me I had a nice arse. He did that."

Alfred wasn't aware that he had been staring until he realized that Arthur was glaring at him again. "Um, okay? And that's relevant because...?"

"Because he actually complimented me!" Arthur was evidently flustered, though Alfred wasn't sure why. "He said something nice to me when my own _friend _does nothing but insult me! Maybe I like being told I look good. Is that a crime, Alfred? Does that make me a whore?"

Alfred stepped back in confusion, releasing Arthur from his grasp. Were those _tears _in the other's eyes? "Shit Arthur, I'm sorry," Alfred said quickly in a slightly panicked voice. He wasn't used to bringing his friends to tears, least of all Arthur. He didn't know how to cope with tears. "I didn't mean it, honest. I just... it just didn't make sense to me. If you wanted somebody to compliment your ass, you could have just come to me."

Silence. Arthur looked up at him in surprise, apparently forgetting his upset. "Why would you compliment my arse?"

"Because he's right, you have a really great one. It looks great in those jeans." Alfred shifted awkwardly, averting his eyes from the shocked look he was getting. "Not in a weird way, obviously. Just dishing out the facts."

"Obviously," Arthur murmured in agreement, stepping forward cautiously. Tentatively, he reached out his hand and cupped Alfred's cheek in his palm. "What else do you like about me...without being weird, of course?"

The situation wasn't familiar at all to Alfred, but if he were to make it up to Arthur, he'd do whatever the other wanted of him, even if it made his palms break out in a cold sweat. "Er, your eyes, I guess? They're really green. You're really fun to hang out with and I know you'll always forgive me, no matter how much of a jerk I am. You've got really soft skin-"

A pair of lips against his stopped his rambling abruptly, startling him. A pair of hands kept his head in place, however, pressing their mouths together firmly in a strength Alfred hadn't been aware that Arthur possessed. And there he was, kissing back with a vigour _he _didn't know that he possessed himself.

It was only when he felt something wet wipe against his lips that he yanked himself away from Arthur, breathing heavily with a dark flush. He had been kissing his _friend_, for crying out loud!

Instead of showing any hurt, which would have been expected of him (really, Arthur was too sensitive for his own good), a languid smirk spread across Arthur's face as he leaned back against the wall to inspect the flushed mess he had left after him. A silent _I told you so _hung in the air, even though nothing had been mentioned before.

"Look, I don't know what that just was, but I'm not gay," Alfred spoke up finally, running an agitated hand through his hair. "You're my best friend and all, but I just don't feel like that with you."

Arthur hadn't looked particularly bothered, though, which only agitated Alfred further. "Of course you aren't, love," Arthur hid a smile, raising his chin in the direction of the door. "My mistake. I'll just go back out there and see if Adam is up for some dancing, then."

Arthur had barely taken a few steps before Alfred grabbed his arm. "You're not going to Adam," he insisted firmly, his eyes boring into Arthur's. "He's going to hurt you."

Arthur sighed theatrically and turned to face Alfred with a thoughtful look. "Well then, that may impose a problem. You see, I had my heart set on snogging someone tonight. You wouldn't happen to know somebody you'd approve of for me, would you?"

Taken aback, Alfred let go of Arthur's arm once more. "Well I- I don't know. But you're not spending the night with that guy," Alfred declared, frowning.

It looked as if something had finally snapped Arthur out of his calm facade. "Look here, Jones. You can't just decide who I'll spend my time with, much the less rob me of the only man who showed any interest without offering any alternative. You don't own me."

Something flashed in Alfred's eyes. "Yes, I do," he growled, stepping forward to circle his arms around Arthur's waist. "You belong with me, not with some creepy old dude."

And then he kissed him.

x.x.x

The air between them was almost suffocating, but Alfred couldn't care less- he had never felt this good. The heavy weight on his lap wasn't strictly comfortable but it was ever so satisfying. The tongue in his mouth and the calloused hand on his cock didn't belong to a girl, but that didn't seem to matter anymore.

He pulled his face away, gasping for the breath that had been stolen from him in that all consuming kiss. Arthur smirked up at him and trailed his mouth so that his lips were pressed to the junction of his throat and jaw. Exhaling audibly, Alfred tilted his head back and leaned against the wall as he concentrated on the sucking sensation on his throat on one hand and on the delicious friction on his length.

For once, it felt good to let go and just to _feel_. Arthur's hand was damp with sweat, which made it easier for the other to glide it up and down his cock smoothly despite the bumps and occasional vein. Arthur's other hand was pressing down hard on his hipbone, keeping Alfred in place when he would try to pump his hips to his own rhythm. "Steady, love," Arthur would breath against his skin whenever Alfred's whines would grow too loud for comfort. "You don't want to finish this yet."

Not that Alfred had much choice when Arthur rolled the pad of his forefinger over his tip. "Fuck," he swore, wriggling under Arthur's weight. "I can't-"

"Come," Arthur cut him off, nipping at his ear playfully. "Come for me."

And with a strangled cry, he did. Arthur kept pumping him until there was nothing left to milk. By the time Alfred's breathing came at a steadier pace, he could feel something hard pressing against his stomach. A sharp reminder of what they had been doing.

Stricken, he looked up to meet Arthur's hooded gaze. "I'm not gay," he said slowly, finishing his statement with a questioning lilt, followed by a hesitant smile. Arthur gave him a grin, pulling his hand and pressing it to the bulge in his jeans.

"Of course you aren't, poppet."

* * *

_Hanna Chan's Blah-Blah Corner;_

_Honestly, I think I should give up on that silly title xD Anyway, I have mixes feelings about this installment. The kink I had followed for this chapter was 'handjob', as you _might _have guessed w; I'm not particularly happy with my writing style here, but I attribute that to my lack of writing in a story format for literally months. I hope this was just something for me to practice with and I'll grow more comfortable once I've written enough :D_

_What I did like about it, however, was the brief 'denial' issue here. It was hastily addressed and even superficial, I know, but I'm imagining that this lone scene is out of a long story of friendship that was lined with sexual tension and a lot of questions and this scene was a sort of moment of truth. So yeah. Not as sexy as it could have been, but I'm working on that ;w;'_

_I'm sort of afraid to ask for reviews, actually xD Thanks for reading!_

_-Hanna_


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